


Stop Tempting Me

by SapphyreLily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, It's literally just porn, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, i have no explanation ok, i was enabled and this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 10:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10569075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: Sexual tension and a couple locked in an equipment closet - maybe intentionally, maybe not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bianoyami (poeticalcreation)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticalcreation/gifts).



> This is Bia's fault for giving me ideas (not really, I enjoyed writing this).

Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe it’s a stupid idea.

Scratch that, it’s _definitely_ a stupid idea, and a very, _very_ bad one at that.

But with the feel of the body underneath him, the sensation of lips moving against his, he finds that he couldn’t care less.

Did they really expect him not to do something, locking them in here like this?

Fools.

The person he’s pressed against pulls away with a gasp, strong hands pressing against his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length. “Shirabu. We can’t. Not here.”

“Why not?” He glares down at him, softening it with the barest glimpse of his tongue dragging across his lip. The boy under him whimpers, his grip weakening.

“Because– Because we’re in the _equipment closet_ , for one.”

“Mmhmm? Keep going.” He lifts a hand, letting it walk across his chest, tracing the exposed skin of his collarbone. Another whimper escapes his partner, and he catches his hand, holding it apart from his body.

“Two–” He falters as Shirabu leans forward, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, brushing his lips lightly, lightly over flushed skin. “Stop that. Two, the team is _out there_.”

“We heard them leave,” he reminds, tongue poking out, tasting the salty surface. “Tendou-san even said they’ll be back after the meeting to let us out.”

“You trust Tendou?”

“No,” he admits. “I bet he’s out there with a camera, like a voyeur.”

“All the more reason to _stop doing this_ – Ah, no, sto-op,” his voice shorts out in a high keen when teeth scrape against his pulse, fingers bunched up in the material of his boyfriend’s shirt.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so,” he whispers, eyes glinting in the low light. “If he wants a show, we’ll give him a show.”

“Shirabu– No, stop–”

“What’s the matter, _Semi-san_?” He purrs, lips gliding up his neck, hands playing out under his shirt, over his skin. “Are you afraid of getting caught?”

“I swear, you little minx, if Coach catches us, we’ll _both_ be booted off the team.”

“But he won’t, because he’s at that meeting with the other coaches, and it’s just us.” His mouth is hovering over his, words coming out in tiny puffs of breath. “Or is it that you don’t want me?”

“What? No, no, of course I want you–”

“Then don’t hesitate.”

He plunges in, fusing their lips, hands wandering, exploring, worshipping the hard planes and firm muscles. He can still feel the resistance in the frozen set of his lips, in the rigidness of his body – so he does it.

He nips at the closed mouth against his, rolling his hips up against the other’s, sucking his lip into his mouth when he gasps.

He can feel the hardness between them – despite all his protests, Semi wants him as much as he does him. It’s been too long since they’ve had a moment alone together, and he’s just so full of _want_.

He breaks away, pulling back slightly – and is rewarded by a soft whimper. The hands against his shoulders tighten as if to pull him in, but he resists, sitting back, keeping their eyes locked.

When he’s sure he has all his attention, he speaks.

“If you’re not going to act more like you want this, then maybe I should tie you up, hmm?”

Semi gapes at him, but it’s like his senses are heightened; he can hear the slight hitch in his breath, the little choke in his inhale.

He smirks and pulls away.

Semi gapes at him even more, a frozen statue, but his expression has faltered a little – hurt and confusion playing across his face.

He stands and walks across the small space slowly, deliberately, only turning back slightly once to shoot him a coy look. He hops onto a stack of mats, crossing his legs, leaning back on his hands.

“Or maybe this is better, us sitting far apart, never coming closer, never getting to the edge of relief.” His voice is a whisper, a breathy exhale, and he thinks he sees Semi break a little more.

This is good.

He clicks his tongue loudly, startling the other. “I see you moving, Semi-san. Are you sure you want the company of your hand? _Just_ your hand? I could arrange for that, you know. I could break out of here, leaving you alone and with a hard problem to solve by yourself.”

He sees Semi bite his lip, sees his hands lower back to the floor, palms flat and bracing.

He tilts his head back, regarding him through half-lidded eyes, letting the silence between them fester and stretch.

“Or… We could play a little game.”

His voice is deep, low, almost menacing. He feels a shudder go through him, feels the blood pulsing, feels the hard throbbing of his erection, insistent and desperate.

“Look at me.”

He opens his eyes – did he close them? He doesn’t know – meeting a lazy glance across the room and the smallest smile twisting his lips.

“Do you want to hear about the things I could do to you?”

He nods, a barely perceptible shift, and his mouth is dry, so dry.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Please.” His voice catches – it’s so hoarse, and he swallows with difficulty. He knows he’s completely out of it, but he couldn’t care less – his willpower is a spider’s thread, snapped by the careless brush of a human hand – _his_ hand.

Shirabu smiles a little more, shifting until he’s lying flat across the mats, head on hand, his voice warm and silky.

“What do you want me to do first? There are so many things,” he sighs, and it’s the flutter of moth wings, light and airy. His hands clench into fists, anticipation building in his blood.

“I suppose I _could_ start slow, kissing across your cheekbones, down your neck, brushing by your pretty clavicles. No? From the bottom up then, up your calves, across your knees and the insides of your thighs, tantalisingly close, but not yet touching, not quite there–”

“God, Shirabu, _please–_ ”

“Shh.” He cuts him off with an icy smile, finger tapping against his lip, dragging across it slowly, enticingly. “Or you do want to go hard and fast, when I have you pressed up against the wall, circling your entrance, dipping, tracing, but never really entering, a pressure that’s never enough? Or how about,” his voice dips, a low growl, “you finger yourself instead? Think about it, about being all splayed out on the floor, your pretty fingers up your ass, spreading yourself, preparing yourself, and what if, _what if_ , someone decides to open the door just then, and sees you there, one arm braced against the floor, leaking over the floorboards, a sweaty, dirty mess?

“Oh? Don’t lie to me, Semi-san, I can see it in your face. Is that not enough? The thought of getting caught? What if, then, that door is opened, and you’ve just found that sweet spot – and you want to stop, want to halt yourself, because that’s just so humiliating, but you’re _so close_ – And you know they’re there, but you keep going, you keep pressing at it, digging at that spot, and then you’re seeing white, convulsing and coming over the floor–”

A high cry cuts him off, and his attention snaps back to Semi, fingers curled into fists, back arching off the wall. He can almost smell the endorphins coming off him, the scent of his high, and he can’t help himself–

He smiles.

Sliding off the stack of mats, he stalks over, crouching beside his panting form, reaching for his jaw and trailing kisses up to his temple, lips barely brushing his ear as he whispers.

“You’re such a dirty boy, aren’t you? Coming just with the fantasies planted in your head, who would’ve thought you were such a slut, so eager and ready for it–”

“Kenjirou– Kenjirou, please, stop–”

He feels his cock twitch at the sound of his name, but presses on, fingers digging in, holding his jaw still. “What is it? Still haven’t got enough? What a child you are, coming so hard and fast, staining the inside of your pants. I bet you don’t have an extra set, and now you’ll have to go home with this soiled pair. I bet the whole way back you’ll be thinking of what we’ve done here, and every time you move, the discomfort will remind you a little more, and you can’t stop thinking about it. And soon you’ll be hard on the train again – how are you going to hide that from the innocent schoolchildren who take the same train as you, huh? How shameful–”

There’s a growl and hands on his, grabbing and pinning him to the floor. Semi hovers over him, his expression halfway between a snarl and a grimace, and he blinks owlishly at him.

“You will be the death of me,” he tells him, and then his mouth is on his, pressing in, nipping and biting and devouring, an animal starved for its mate.

He presses back with equal intensity, his hands having found their way under his shirt again, pushing the material up, scratching at his skin. But he feels him pull away, and his eyes snap open, mouth ready to demand an answer when he feels fingers in the waistband of his shorts and a single word.

“Up.”

He lifts his hips obediently, silently rejoicing, hissing when the cool air hits his cock. Before he can think, it’s replaced by heavy pressure and the slide of skin on skin.

He gasps, only to have the breath stolen by a harsh kiss, and pleasure shooting through his limbs.

“Semi-san–”

“Shut up, brat,” he growls, biting on his lip. “You don’t get to push me over the edge and not get anything in return.”

“Oh, so you _did_ come–” He cuts himself off as Semi rolls his hips downwards, a moan dragging itself out.

“Careful what you wish for, Kenjirou,” he breathes.

He chokes on his gasp as a hand wraps itself around his cock, stroking in rough, firm jerks on one side, while the hot length of his boyfriend slides against his on the other. It’s an intense jolt of pleasure, and he can feel the pressure in his belly rising – he’s going to climax too fast.

“Eita– Slow down–”

He gets a hard kiss and Semi speeding up as a response, and he digs his fingernails in as the feeling skyrockets, tipping, almost falling–

He jerks helplessly, tearing red furrows in Semi’s back, a cry muffled in the fusion of their mouths. Between them, Semi can feel the hot spill, and despite himself, he grins. Then he crumples on top of Shirabu with his second climax, shout held back and constricting his lungs.

The air between them is sticky, or maybe it’s just them. Semi huffs a breath after his world finally stops spinning, knocking his forehead against Shirabu’s affectionately. “Minx.”

Shirabu grins crookedly at him, tiredness lining his eyes, and rubs the tips of their noses together. “You weren’t going to do it. Someone had to kill this tension.”

“Are you saying this was intentional?” He’s mildly offended, and Shirabu shrugs.

“There is actually a key in here somewhere. Taichi said he left it near the mops or something.”

He holds his breath as Semi takes that in, watching the scowl blossom across his face. “You knew. And still went along with it. There are better ways to do this.”

“The equipment closet is a novel place though.”

“Forget Tendou, _you’re_ an exhibitionist.”

Shirabu shrugs again. “You enjoy it.”

“Brat.”

“Yes, senpai. I thought you wanted out of the closet?”

“Well yeah– Wait, no. The equipment closet, not the metaphorical one, you hear me?”

Shirabu’s laughing too hard to care. “Whatever you say, Semi-san.”

“Go find that key. You’re insufferable,” the ash blond grumbles, rolling off and stripping his pants off fully. “Oh, hold on.”

“Do you want me to find that key or not?”

“Do you want to be clean or not?” Semi grumbles, pinning him down with one hand and wiping the white streaks off his stomach with his already soiled boxers. “ _Now_ you can go look for the key.”

He rolls upright, taking a few steps before stopping, before murmuring a quiet, “Thanks.” His voice is a tad softer, a little warmer, and Semi smiles after his retreating figure.

It was a bad idea, an incredibly stupid idea, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it.

**Author's Note:**

> I take that back this is the worst pwp I've ever written, no one let me drink again.


End file.
